Click here for a list of weather descriptions, seasonal festivals, and a real time:site time conversion.
Character of the Season
Frail in body but dangerously quick of mind, Nikandr is the sort of character who proves that curiosity can be just as perilous as any weapon. A necromancer, inventor, and problem-solver with more ambition than self-preservation, Niki approaches the world like a puzzle box begging to be opened, even when what’s inside has teeth. Blunt, dry-witted, fiercely independent, and carrying a history best left partially buried, he has a knack for making even failure feel fascinating. Whether he’s raising the dead, moving across Caido to King's End, or experiencing a hangover for the first time, Nikandr brings a wonderfully strange spark to Caido, and we can’t wait to see what trouble his brilliant mind wanders into next.
Congratulations, Niki!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
OG Skinning provided by Kaons, with functionality and many custom plugins made by Neowulf!
The camping trip Iskra had decided to take to the woods in an effort to be helpful had proved to help him. From one profound encounter to another, bits of him, the real him, were excavated with each conversation, hell with each word. So, with a renewed vigor, Iskra set out one more time before he'd make his way back to Halo. Goose trotted happily at his side, which was in part because he did not have to carry the heavy pack of all their shit like Iskra did, and in part because Melita had given him a toy. The rubber duck, which looked like driftwood, gave the occasional soft squeak and drawn in exhale of breath as Goose sucked it back and forth between his feet. Occasionally he'd drop it and nearly lose his mind as he quickly snatched it back up, paws and teeth flying, and usually scattered the duck further in the process. The dog's tongue was flecked with leaf litter, but he seemed not to mind as long as he had his pacifier.
With a grunt, Iskra set his pack down, stopping for a brief break. He pulled a canteen of water out, offering some to the dog as he poured it into his hand, before drinking deeply himself. For the first time since entering this region of the woods, Iskra gazed around at the eerie stillness and the lanterns that lit the darkest recesses. There was a lot of honor and coveted love here, but Iskra couldn't help feeling a little freaked out seeing all the graves. "Whether we find a flower or not, we're getting the hell outta here soon boy," Iskra muttered.
Woke up drunk at 10 a.m.—we gon' do this shit again Someone pour me up a double shot of whiskey They know me and Jack Daniel's got a history Everybody at the bar gettin' tipsy
It’s rare for the courtesan to get time off. Rarer still that he has this much time off. But the rooms were occupied and his regulars were out and about, and so in an effort to help those in King’s End after the realization that the very leader had been infected for some time, Thorn chooses to spend his time here. In the Greatwood. A place he’s only been to maybe once before in person, but plenty of times with his clients in the House of Midnight.
He tries not to think too much about the fact that some of these trees looked a little too familiar as he drifts through, when he suddenly looks up and spots a man with a pack and a dog. Now, Thorn sees people pretty regularly, and he does see the occasional companion flit through the doors, but Iskra will have to forgive him for being incredibly excited to see Goose. “Hey!” Thorn calls out with a bright pearlescent smile, a soft wave, approaching but keeping a relatively safe distance just in case the dog isn’t as friendly as it looks.
oose did not understand what Iskra was saying, but he tilted his head back and forth all the same, eyes locked firmly on Iskra's as if he might try and pry into his mind. It was then that a voice called out, and Iskra looked up from his conversation with his best friend, hand lifted in a returned gesture. "Hi," he called back, and Goose gave a soft woof in response, turning to look at Hawthorn over his shoulder. Pretty easy going with everyone, Goose was also plenty happy to ignore others, so for now he remained mildly curious as Hathorn approached.
"Didn't expect to see anyone else here, of all places," Iskra admitted to the man, regarding him carefully, half convinced he might just be a spectre from a disturbed mound. "I'm Iskra, and that's Goose," he offered by way of greeting. Canteen still in hand, he lifted it up in question. "Thirsty?"
Woke up drunk at 10 a.m.—we gon' do this shit again Someone pour me up a double shot of whiskey They know me and Jack Daniel's got a history Everybody at the bar gettin' tipsy
He’s glad he hasn’t startled Iskra with his greeting, and as the friendly gesture is returned, the courtesan drifts closer – seafoam eyes shifting from dog to man. And when Iskra speaks next, his gaze fully focuses on the stranger with that same pearlescent smile. “Yeah, was tryin’ to find my way back to the village but.. Y’know how it is in the Greatwood.” At least he hopes Iskra does, otherwise he’d get to break the news that they’re both helplessly fuckin’ lost.
Lips parting to introduce himself, the offer of the canteen is kind, and Thorn does feel a dryness in his throat. Having no water magic to conjure with, his smile turns a little softer. “I guess I am.. If y’don’t mind sharin', of course.” He starts, before he’s able to finish introducing himself. “I’m Thorn. Nice to meet ya Iskra. And you too, Goose.” The inflection of his voice shifts a touch as he inclines down toward the canine, ensuring that he greeted him as well.
Orbs of light beckon and call from the darkened angles and shadows of trees. Were those whispers of your friends? Family? Fallen allies?
Was that a scream? Could they be in trouble?
Is it all in your head? Just your imagination?
Or something else altogether – because what if it’s true?
You’ve encountered a Will-O-Wisp. This counts as a common creature encounter for the purposes of levelling, but does not count as a Random Event for levelling or MP. There will be no further admin/re intervention. If you choose to follow this creature, you do so at your own risk, however, just having it in this thread is enough to satisfy your levelling requirements.
Will-O-Wisps (common): Glowing orbs of light that dance and weave between the branches, despite their usefulness, these creatures are not to be trusted. Mischievous and loyal to no one, they will lead travellers astray at a moment's notice.
Iskra nodded along to Hawthorn's remark, for though he had never really been to the Greatwood much, he knew the tales, the risks. "Yeah—Goose keeps us on track with his nose." Iskra taps his own nose twice, smiling, as if he's cracked some code. Of course, Goose also didn't mind leading them astray if she smelled something more interesting than home, or roses.
Iskra passed over the canteen, using the new name to better seal it in his memory, which didn't always like to keep track of such vital information for him. "No problem Thorn, plenty to go around." Kinda, he didn't have water magic either, but he did have more water. In response to his name, Goose turned his head towards the man, tongue parting his mouth in a lazy, happy manner. As Thorn begins to crouch though, Goose noticeably brightens. Someone, on his level? The dog closed the gap in a flurry of paws, licking eagerly for that lowered face. He always wanted the face, but everyone kept it so high up and squirmed away when he tried to taste their mouth and their nose—weird!
Suddenly a sound like a scream splits the quiet. Iskra hadn't noticed at first, but this spooky graveyard of limbs and earth seemed... empty. That usually wasn't a good sign in his experience, and that shriek validated that. Goose whirled, hackles up, ears tilting as he glanced for the danger. Iskra tensed, doing the same, his hand dropping towards the axe he kept on the side of his belt. "What was that?" he asked, straining to hear another cry. "Is someone in trouble?"
Woke up drunk at 10 a.m.—we gon' do this shit again Someone pour me up a double shot of whiskey They know me and Jack Daniel's got a history Everybody at the bar gettin' tipsy
Brightening up as Iskra mentions that Goose keeps them on track, he drifts closer with that bright smile, accepting the canteen gratefully before he hands it back after a small sip, not wanting to take too much of it for himself. He’s still properly hydrated enough to turn his attention to the canine. Crouching low for Goose to say hello, the courtesan is more than ready to give lots of pets.
But of course it’s interrupted by the scream. Thorn immediately jumps, standing with a muffled yelp and subconsciously putting himself behind Iskra. In comparison, he imagines Iskra can handle it better than he could, given the willowy nature of his body and lack of defenses. Iskra had quite the brawn built into his arms and despite how he can’t admire them at the moment, he does hope selfishly that it’s enough to keep them safe, especially while he reaches for the axe at his waist.
That’s precisely the time he sees the orbs of light, nose wrinkling slightly as he exhales a sharp sound, recalling the creatures he’d read about before. “Nah. Will o wisps? I think?” Stepping boldly away from Iskra for the moment, a long slender hand lifts, conjuring some air and focuses intensely to blow a little gust toward the orbs of light, hoping they might wobble back out of sight.
Iskra should have known. How many woods had he wandered through? How many mysterious, mischievous things had haunted his axe swings, a siren song of the trees? He snorted derisively, his hand slackening at his side. Goose still stayed on alert, but as nothing else transpired, his fur began to flatten out. Iskra turned back towards Thorn, unbothered that he'd momentarily used Iskra as a shield. He hoped to get strong enough to serve as such.
"I think that's my sign it's time to head home to Halo," Iskra laughed lightly, repositioning the pack on his shoulders, the canteen that had been passed off hanging a bit askew. "Doesn't seem worth hunting for roses if the trees are going to try to lead me to my demise instead." Goose wove between them as they spoke, pressing against Thorn's legs while he stretched out his back feet. "The village is that way, by the way," Iskra pointed towards a direction with confidence. "Good luck, Thorn, hopefully we meet again in better company." The woodcutter lifted his hand in farewell as he and Goose struck off for home.
Woke up drunk at 10 a.m.—we gon' do this shit again Someone pour me up a double shot of whiskey They know me and Jack Daniel's got a history Everybody at the bar gettin' tipsy
Relaxing with the realization that it was a will o wisp, paired with Iskra’s own softening from it – the laugh is one Thorn finds equally as amusing, snickering lightly under his breath as he straightens up – however briefly, as Goose brushes by his legs. Reaching down to at least ensure that he knows he’s there, he scratches the canine along his back with gentle and attentive pats.
“Yeah, they seem t’be good at that.” Thorn agrees, drawing up to flash the other abandoned a grateful smile. “Thanks, Iskra. Was nice meetin’ ya. Y’can find me if you’re ever in King’s End.” Not that he thinks Iskra swings one way or another, but the courtesan is nothing but playful as he steps away from utilizing Iskra as a shield precisely at the time the man and his dog begin to start heading back the opposite direction of the path, departing with a wink.
